Fold

Because it always fucking hurts.

Because the pain never goes away.

Death is a wound that never heals. You can't bandage, stitch, or fix it.

It's chronic. Incurable. Permanent. Final.

And it doesn't just end the life it takes...it destroys a huge part of those who are left behind. The people who are forced to continue living in a world where their loved ones no longer exist.

It's a punishment no one deserves.

“Preston said Landon was trying to protect you both when he was shot,” Breslin chokes out. “I didn't know he was there. Preston never told us. Why didn't he tell us Kyle shot him?”

“I'm so sorry,” I whisper, even though I don't deserve her forgiveness. “I know it doesn't take back what I did, I just need you to know.”

She stands up slowly, her limbs shaking like tree branches in a hurricane. “I don't—”

I rise from the floor. “Kyle had no idea who Landon was. That's why Preston never mentioned he was with us when he was on the phone. He didn't want Asher to freak out and give Kyle a reason to hurt him. Kyle didn't shoot Landon until after the phone call.”

She staggers back. “If he didn't know who Landon was, then why did he do it?” She looks me up and down. “You and Preston aren't injured. Did Landon step in when Kyle tried to attack one of you?”

I start to close my eyes but think better of it. The least I can do is look at her as I confess. “Not exactly. I don't know the precise—”

“What do you mean you don't know, Kit? You were there when Kyle shot him, weren't you?”

My culpability is asphyxiating me, but she deserves to know the truth.

“No, not technically.”

“Where were you?”

“In the elevator with Preston.” I take a step forward. “Landon attacked Kyle so we could have a chance to escape. He did more than protect us, he saved our lives.”

A strangled sound breaks out and she grips her stomach. “You mean to tell me you just ran off? You didn't stop when Kyle shot him? Never tried to help him? Instead you left him to die by himself on the cold cafeteria floor...like some kind of sacrificial lamb?”

My heart bottoms out and fractures right down the center. I go to hug her, tell her how much I hate myself, but she shoves me away.

“Don't—”

“She didn't leave him,” a deep voice booms behind me. “I pulled her in the elevator and refused to let her out. She didn't have a choice.” He walks up to her. “I know you're upset, but don't make her feel worse than she already does. If you're looking for someone to blame, blame me. Landon gave me an out and I took it.”

The sound of Breslin's hand whipping across Preston's cheek is deafening. “You are the most selfish person I've ever met in my life.”

He rubs the red mark she left. “Considering who your father is, I find that hard to believe.”

I open my mouth to inform him this is not the time or place to be his typical mordant self, but Breslin surges forward. “Listen to me and listen good, you arrogant asshole.” She points to his chest. “If you ever felt anything inside this vacant cavity for your brother, you'd quit using him to clean up your messes and stay away...before he ends up just like my Landon.”

Preston's firm expression falters. “Bre—”

“No. Don't even try it. I'm not your brother, and I'm definitely not one of your little sluts, bookies, or poker buddies. You can't con or swindle me with your bullshit lines or excuses. I see you for the piece of self-serving shit you really are.”

She takes a step back, her furious stare bouncing between us before resting on me. “I don't know what to say to you. But don't follow me when I turn around.”

With that, she storms off...and the organ in my chest that was hanging by a thread, pulverizes.

The events of the last twenty-four hours crash into me like a tidal wave and big, ugly tears retch out of me.

In one long stride, Preston pulls me to him until I'm wrapped up in nothing but his warmth. A sturdy wall of protection between me and all the remorse and heartache I'm drowning in.

I know I shouldn't let him near me, let alone touch and console me, but his arms are the only thing preventing me from hitting rock bottom.

I can't even begin to understand it and I'm not so sure I want to. All I know is I need this. I need him right now.

Even though it's nothing more than an illusion, I need to feel like someone in this world actually cares about me...or I'll shatter into so many parts, it'll be impossible to ever put myself back together again.

“I've got you,” he says before he lifts me into his arms and starts walking.

I know he does. It makes no sense, just like nothing else does...but I believe him.

I latch onto Preston like he's an anchor, crying so hard I lose every ounce of air from my lungs with each sob.

Even though we shouldn't be friends. Even though I detest the kind of person he is.

Even though I should know better.

I trust Preston Holden.